Scars
by abagaleciara
Summary: Kate is forced to confront Castle about her PTSD.
1. Nightmare

_A/N: Hey, everyone. Hope you're having a wonderful holiday season! Anyway, this kind of popped into my head, and has no direction, so I'm hoping it'll unfold to all of us as I go along. I don't have a beta (but I'd love one), so all mistakes are mine. _

_Disclaimer: I have a Castle Calender, if Andrew Marlowe wants to trade I am more than down._

/

Restless. Anxious. Unable to focus. Falling fast. Struggling, gasping. Panting, collapsing. Thoughts jumbled, muscles screaming. Blinding flashes, reflected light. Eyes watching, everywhere. Pressure, hard and constant. And then black, endless and forgiving, black.

She woke up in her bathtub, her piece in hand. The pressure she felt now was different, a pounding resonating against her skull. Kate stood slowly, steadying herself against the wall. Blinking, she began to see the damage of her PTSD spell. She decided she'd clean later, her main concern being ibuprofen. She found it quickly enough, having been thrown to the ground along with anything else that had been in her bathroom cupboard. She swallowed down two pills before heading into the kitchen to chase them with water.

Her living room was in a state of disarray, again. Her bookcase spilled onto the hardwood floor. Her mirror laid shattered on the carpet. She'd be cleaning for at least a couple of hours. From the refrigerator in her kitchen, she could see the way the rest of her day was going to pan out. Considering it was bordering on 5 a.m., she settled herself with the notion that the sleep she had gotten after her episode would be the only rest she'd have.

Kate put on a pot of coffee, anticipating that she would need more than her usual par for caffeine, and set out on cleaning. This was the third time she'd blacked out in as many weeks, and it was one of her worst. The last time, she had been in her room when the memories took hold, thrashing in her sheets, and waking up under the mattress. The damage had been minimal, and she hadn't been left with any injuries, a blessing of its own. She still had a scar on her wrist from the first time she'd fallen into whatever trance the PTSD commanded, a permanent reminder of how real her disease was, despite her initial denial.

The apartment was returned to normal, with her in the shower by 7, an hour before she was needed at the precinct. A solace from the rest of her life, she let the water flood over her. Washing away the crippling grief and the rush of emotions she refused to acknowledge. Twenty minutes later, she donned a deep blue v-neck sweater, an onyx blazer, jeans, and black pumps. Applying light mascara and eyeliner, she was out the door by quarter to 8.

/

Richard Castle was no stranger to nightmares. Being a writer, it was something he experienced frequently, especially since joining the homicide team at the NYPD. But, in the past months, all of his night terrors had been about Kate.

An ambulance siren tearing through the night. Kate face-down in a halo of her own blood. The sharp continuous beep declaring her heart still. Frantic doctors running, screaming, begging for mercy. Kate dying on an operating table, open and exposed. Kate dead, remembered only by a white slab of rock. Him left empty in her wake.

He woke up at 5a.m. in a cold sweat, unable to catch his breath. Figuring he wouldn't be able to fall back asleep, he got ready for the day. Dressed in a black jacket, a navy dress shirt, and dark jeans; he fixed his hair before making breakfast for Alexis and his mother. He set about cooking lazily, thoughts anywhere but in the mundane task. An hour later, Alexis descended the stairs, clad in pajamas, barely awake.

"Good morning, pumpkin." He smiled, thankful for his daughter's ability to brighten his morning simply by walking in the room.

"Hey, you're up early." She sat at the island in their kitchen, head against the table top.

"And so are you. Want to go in late to school, get some extra sleep?" He slid a plate of eggs, toast, and bacon her way before setting about making her a fruit and yogurt cup.

"I wish, but no, I have a major test today in calc, first period. If I miss it, I'll just have to stay after to make it up next week. It's not worth the hassle."

"Well eat up, get some energy. I'm sure you'll put your classmates to shame." He smiled, hoping to inject a bit of silliness into her morning to improve her mood for school. "And if not, you can always just stay here with me for the rest of your life."

"Gee, Dad, thanks for the vote of confidence." Her resolve failed, a slight grin appearing where a faux scowl previously rested.

"Anytime, kiddo."

/

A cup of coffee in each hand, Richard Castle entered the 12th Precinct with a smile and short nod for the officer at the main desk. Where most people felt frightened, or intimidated as a civilian in police quarters, Rick felt at ease. It was as much his home as the loft, with the added benefit of Kate Beckett.

His eyes were drawn to her, automatically finding the gold strands in her hair, dancing in the light. He strode toward her desk, placing her coffee above her paperwork before dropping into his chair.

And it was his chair. As much as Kate may have initially denied his help as 'assistant junior homicide detective,' he'd long since found his groove within their unorthodox family. Esposito and Ryan were her brothers in arms, in life. They supported her, and she trusted them with her life. But, Castle. Castle was anything but fraternal. Warm and constant, he was her partner. Always.

She offered him a smile in thanks that was returned in kind, "Morning."

"To you as well, Detective. Any bodies?"

"Not yet, but it's still early. Until then, there's always paperwork. Care to pitch in, for once?"

"If I do can we get an early lunch?"

"It's barely eight-thirty. How can you possibly be thinking about lunch?"

"Early lunch means a longer lunch, and a longer lunch means less time at the loft."

She eyed him curiously, not needing to actually ask him to communicate her question.

"Alexis and Mother are leaving tonight to go on a tour of New England colleges until Sunday night. Spending extra time in a soon to be permanently empty apartment isn't exactly high on my list of priorities."

Kate watched his face gradually fall, inch by inch. His lips curved downward slightly. His eyes followed, darkening and dropping to the floor. He drew into himself, collecting his thoughts. Bottling up his fears and doubts concerning Alexis and her forthcoming graduation. She'd seen enough, afraid that if she let him think too much, he'd be lost for the day.

"Well then I guess that means dinner is on you tonight." She raised a playful eyebrow and Castle cracked a smile.

/

Their slow morning transcended into a slower day filled with paperwork mountains and flying birds of destruction. Stretching out her work load for his benefit, Beckett didn't reach the end of her pile until close to 8.

Castle watched as she signed off on the last file, her elegant strokes of the pen dancing across the signature line. She closed the file with a relieved sigh, pushing it to the side before stretching. She rolled her head back on her shoulders and hung her arms in the air, fingers interlocked above her head.

He'd been observing her for so long, now, that Kate found his attentiveness endearing. His skill for capturing details in his writing was mirrored in reality, constantly picking up on small habits or behaviors she wouldn't even think to acknowledge. So when his eyes flicked towards her while her arms were extended, she didn't realize he had locked onto a small line of pinched flesh, pink and newly healed, puckered against her otherwise pale wrist.

His mind reeled. It was obviously a fairly new scar, but he couldn't get his mind past not having seen it sooner. It must have been deep when she first got it, deep enough to still be raised against the rest of her skin, anyway. She couldn't have done it more than a month ago, considering how dark it was. But what had she done? How had she gotten hurt and him have not noticed? It obviously wasn't while she was on duty, otherwise he surely would have seen it, right? He racked his brain, trying to think of a time where he would have seen it before, or at least have asked her what had happened. Each time, he came up blank, and disappointed in himself for doing so.

"Ready to go?" Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts, bringing him back to reality where she was already standing up from her chair, shifting things around on her desk. He gave a short nod and stood, shrugging his jacket onto his shoulders before holding hers out for her to slip on. "Remy's sound okay?"

He mumbled a short "mmhmm" in response, trailing behind her to the elevator, oblivious to whatever she was saying. He was too focused on the scar, its implications, his failure to notice it.

"You okay?"

Rick dragged his eyes from where they had been downcast and locked them with Kate's. Blue diamonds immersed in fields of green. His gaze was loaded, but with what, she had no idea. And then she saw his eyes shift, flicking toward her hand hanging limply at her side. Her eyes glazed over in confusion, unable to make a connection between his suddenly meaningful eye contact and her hands.

"…What happened to your wrist, Kate?" She almost didn't hear him ask. She almost missed the way his voice trembled as he whispered her name. She almost didn't have to admit that she wasn't merely broken. She almost didn't have to face the truth that she was irrevocably, completely, shattered.

She took a deep breathe, unsure of how to escape her predicament, "Can we do this somewhere else?"

/

_Thoughts? Comments? Questions? Concerns? Please leave something, I need the motivation._


	2. Broken

_AN: Hi, everyone! I just wanted to say thank you for all of your wonderful support. I'm so thankful for all of your lovely comments. I hope you enjoy the new chapter. And if not, tell me why. I love all kinds of feedback and speculation, so feel free to leave whatever. Anyway, thanks again!_

_Disclaimer: If I owned the rights to Castle, I'd be using them to date Stana Katic._

/

They rode the elevator in silence. They drove past Remy's in silence. They stepped into her apartment in silence.

Kate locked the door. Kate locked the windows. Kate shut her blinds and pulled her shades. Castle watched.

"Sit." And so he did. "Do you want anything to drink?"

"Whatever you're having is fine, thanks. Should I order food in?" This felt awkward and he didn't like it. He didn't like the not knowing part. Or the being scared of what she'd say part. Or the what was going to happen as the night unfolded part.

"Sure, Chinese, please?" She poured each of them a glass of wine. Going through a list of reasons in her head why he deserved to know. The repercussions of him knowing. What adding another lie would do to him, to her.

She heard him order their favorites, and took a deep breath in. Readying herself for what was sure to be a long night. She sat down on the floor in front of the couch next to his legs, knowing she wouldn't be able to face him while she allowed her weakness to spill into the air around them.

A veil of silence fell as they each took a sip of their drink. An eternal moment filled with uncertainty. He couldn't take it, "You don't have to tell me, you know. I just- I want to know that you're okay. I mean, your wrist was cut, Kate. Really cut."

"I didn't do it myself, if that's what you're thinking." He let go of a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding in. A weight lifted off his shoulders, and suddenly, whatever she had to say wasn't as daunting as it could have been. He was privately thanking every God he'd ever heard mention of, grateful for the hurdle they wouldn't have to jump.

"Then can I ask what happened?"

Kate looked up at him and smiled, inwardly appreciative of his hesitancy. "When have you ever asked if it was okay to ask a question?"

"When the question counted." And there it was, a subtle smile laced with genuine concern and need for reassurances. Simultaneously warming and breaking her heart.

"Do you want the long, or short of it?"

"I have all the time in the world." He didn't verbalize the _for you_ he could have added to the end of his sentence.

"Do you remember the Lee Travis murders from a couple of weeks back?" He nodded, not wanting to ruin her train of thought with a comment. She exhaled deeply, weighted down with the inability to both keep her guard up and be honest.

"That case, it sounds crazy, but that case started a war for me. Every day I wake up and go through the motions, hoping that nothing will set off the ticking time bomb that's been embedded in me. I go to bed, and I pray to God that I won't wake up somewhere else, surrounded by destroyed furniture and fragmented glass. I've all but completely healed physically, from… that day. But I'm hardly close to being one-hundred percent." Kate twisted her father's watch around her wrist, seeking comfort in the stability it offered.

"I have Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder." Kate's eyes filled with unexpected tears, her breath audibly stuck in her throat. He dropped a hesitant hand to her shoulder, squeezing lightly in an attempt to force all of his support in the simple gesture. "I'm sorry, I haven't ever said it out loud before and it just kind of caught me off guard."

He moved his hand to the top of her back, sliding down to sit on the floor beside her. "It's okay, take a minute." He practically whispered, not wanting to let her secret escape the confines of their space. She turned so that they were shoulder to shoulder, taking a few moments to steady her breathing.

"The first incident was during the sniper case. It started off small. I noticed things that I normally wouldn't pay mind too. And then it got worse. Loud noises became gun shots, refracted light turned into sniper scopes in the sun. I couldn't focus on doing anything, and all of my thoughts felt muddled together. With each hour, I got more paranoid. Less stable, more frightened." He'd unconsciously started moving his thumb in small circles against her, giving her the smallest of succors to keep her going.

"The night that I told you I was fine, that was the worst of it. I couldn't process anything, and it killed me. I blamed myself for the victims' deaths, and hated that I couldn't get over myself enough to help them. I thought maybe if I could just clear my head, if I could just loosen up a bit, maybe I'd think of something, you know? But then one drink became two, and then the bottle was empty. And then I kept getting these flashes, and they just made everything so much worse. I remember knocking over my side table, and there being glass on the floor. I must have slid over it, and then everything just goes blank."

She turned to look at him. Finding his face racked with concern. He couldn't even begin to fathom what she had felt, what she was still feeling. With two barely visible streams of tears marking her cheeks, Kate let her head fall onto his shoulder.

Rick moved his arm across her back, slipping his hand over her opposite shoulder to accommodate their new position. Not knowing what else he could say, he latched onto murmured phrases. Softly repeating, "Oh, Kate," and "I'm so sorry."

/

They stayed that way until their food arrived fifteen minutes later. Castle paid for the food and got utensils, forgoing plates in favor of eating out of the original containers. Kate opted for music while they ate, putting the music loud enough to be heard but not disruptive. They returned to the table simultaneously, shoulders brushing while they situated themselves back onto the floor.

They stretched their legs out underneath her coffee table, legs and shoulders bumping while they fought over last bits of food. Conversation was stunted between them. It hung, not necessarily unpleasant, but heavy. Neither quite sure of where they stood in terms of the other.

Kate believed that she had let him down. She had torn down what ever perceptions he may have preciously had of her. She felt as though she had transformed into a stranger. Weak and foreign and lost. She exposed herself to the elements and was horrified to look back at whatever aftermath had been left in the face of her admissions.

Castle was in awe of her. Forever and their treasured always amazed by her uncanny ability to survive everything that threw itself in her way. Her mother's murder and all of its subsequent baggage was enough to break anyone. And yet here she sat with him. Maybe not entirely well, but alive nonetheless. To say he respected her in a new light was an understatement of massive proportions.

And so they sat under the sound of the music. Trying to collect their thoughs enough to form a coherent sentence and inherently failing to find any words suitable for the conversation.

They finished their meals quickly, both hungry after spending their post-lunch day at the precinct surviving on vending machine gummie bears and coffee. Kate gathered the rest of their food, shoving it into her fridge, while Castle collected their silverware. They worked in tandem, moving with ease around each other as they washed and dried the few dishes they made. Each sending the other small smiles, an attempt at normalcy before reapproaching their left conversation.

Kate lowered herself into one of her kitchen stools, dropping an elbow onto the counter and a hand to her leg. She covered her face with the hand on the counter, before dragging all of her fingers across her features to meet over her lips. They lingered, allowing her a moment to gather courage for the second time that night. To prepare herself for whatever he had to say.

He turned and caught her in the middle of the act. It was one of her master gestures he had become familiar with over the course of their working together. She did it when she was at a loss in a case, or having a particularly tough time with something. To be so graceful even in your worst times, it was incredible.

"What?" Her tone was more exhausted, than accusatory.

"Just watching."

"It's creepy."

"So is your hottness."

She looked up to meet his gaze, holding it for barely a second before they both started laughing. Entertained by the previously uncomfortable nature of their situation, they laughed at his ice-breaking catalyst. Castle leaned onto the counter for support during their revelry, settling directly across from where she was sitting.

Their laughter faded slowly, before leaving the room filled only with Kate's playlist once again.

"So."

"So."

"Thank you for telling me this."

"I'd understand if you'd want to take a... a break before coming back to the precinct."

"Why on Earth would this make me want to stop being your partner?" He was all sincerity and sweetness. She couldn't believe his reaction could be so completely opposite from what she had expected.

"I'm not alright, Castle."

"No, you're definitely not 'alright.' Saying that you are would insinuate that you're less than extraordinary. Which, clearly, you are not. So you have PTSD. And it's horrible and scary and entirely unjust. But it doesn't mean that you're any different than the person I've always known you to be. The person I l- The person I care about." He took a breath, steadying himself from his almost careless admission. "You have been forced to deal with terrible things, and been put in awful situations. That doesn't make you weak. That doesn't make you anything less. You're a survivor, Kate. You're allowed to have a couple of scars for your trouble."

She winced at his use of the word, her hand moving automatically to her chest. Damn the tears behind her eyes, present for the second time that evening. "I don't want to be broken, Rick."

/

_So not a super cliffhanger, but whatever. Thoughts? Suggestions? Fairy tales you'd like to share? ;)_


	3. Packages

_AN: I love you all. Please take my hand in marital bliss. This is for **Sherpaderp**. Let me know if that's what you meant by ambiguous, because I'm trying it out for you. (; Oh. And there's language in this chapter._

_Disclaimer: I live in Rhode Island, do you really think I'd still be here if I had rights?_

_/_

This time it was his heart that ripped. Her whispered, tear-filled confession tore his resolve. He hated seeing her like this. A small burst of courage surprised them both when he took one of her hands into his own.

"When Meredith left Alexis and me, I was a wreck. I made it through every day for Alexis. But each night, I would fall to pieces. Bawling my eyes out into whiskey filled glasses. I couldn't figure out what I'd done wrong. What I had done that was so bad that not only had I screwed up my marriage, but my daughter's childhood too. And it went on like that for a good six months. The feeling that I had failed and couldn't recover. It took more than a couple long conversations with my mother to convince me that walking in on Meredith and her director in our bed was less about me being a bad husband, and more about her fucking anything with a bank account." He closed his eyes to take in a gulp of air. "What I'm trying to say, Kate, is that we're all haunted. And cracked. And worse for ware. But that doesn't make us failures. And it sure as hell doesn't make us broken. Being damaged, needing to heal, that's how we know we're alive. That's how we get stronger."

Kate wiped at a stray tear and made an attempt at a smile. "Wow, Castle, you should think about becoming a writer, being all honest and sentimental like that."

He flashed a smile of his own at her, squeezing her hand in his. "Maybe in another life."

"Thank you."

"Always."

/

Kate didn't wake up until nearly 10a.m. the following day. It was her first weekend off in God knows how long. Gates had been working her to the bone, trying to gauge her work ethic and Castle's effect on her and the team as a whole. Add to the physical exertion, the heartfelt conversation between her and Castle had rendered her thoroughly exhausted. She fell in to bed not even ten minutes after Castle left, throwing on the oversized tee shirt he had given her when her old apartment was torched.

She woke up surprisingly relaxed, but nonetheless in need of coffee. She was hopelessly addicted; she needed coffee like Helen Keller needed braille. Kate put on a fresh pot before going to get the paper from her doorway. She opened the door, not expecting the courier to be standing outside, arm raised and ready to knock.

The pimply teen turned beat red, dropping his clipboard and nearly dropping what she thought to be her, rather large, package. "Uhm... Are you Katherine Beckhott? I mean Beckett. Katherine Beckett."

Rather than answering, she made a show of picking up the clipboard and the rest of her mail that had been left earlier. Figuring she could at least give the kid a thrill in her good spirits. Signing her name quickly, she handed it back to the boy with a quirked eyebrow. Clearly still flustered, he thrust the package at her, like a child who was displaying their favorite toy. She relieved him of it with a smile and promptly shut the door.

Kate opened the package with interest and no small amount of caution. She bit her lip in surprise when she saw its contents. A box of band-aids with police hats and badges for designs, a set of rose-shaped candles, and a thick stack of ribboned-together paper, each meticulously placed upon a royal purple blanket. At the very bottom, she found an envelope. She pulled each item out one by one, setting them in a line on her kitchen table.

She picked up the envelope first, noting its weight. Pulling out a small folded piece of paper and a silver key on a matching chain, she immediately recognized the handwriting she found on various paper products on her desk throughout the day. But instead of Nikki Heat plot lines, Castle had written out a list.

_Band-aids for the bumps and bruises._

_Candles to escape reality._

_The latest manuscript of Nikki to help. (Don't tell my publishers, or you'll be solving my murder.)_

_A blanket to keep away nightmares._

_& A key to the loft when all else fails... Or when it doesn't._

_- R.C._

/

Castle spent more time staring at his phone than writing. He knew it was her weekend off, and was hoping that she'd be able to sleep in longer than usual. But that didn't stop him from checking the time every five minutes or tapping the screen of his phone in hopes that he had gotten a text and it just hadn't gone off.

By noon, he'd given in to his procrastination and ended up in a less-than-intense game of online poker. He was just about to fold yet another lousy hand when his phone went off, startling him into exiting the game entirely.

"Good morning, Detective."

"Hey, Castle. I, uh, I just wanted to thank you for... Everything."

"That's what partners are for." The line went silent for a minute between them, each digesting the other's meaning.

"Beckett?"

"Yeah?"

"Old Haunt, tonight? I'll buy you a beer."

"Yeah, that sounds great, is 8 okay?"

"Perfect, I'll see you then."

"Later, Castle."

He was excited. Not that they were going out for drinks, they'd done that a couple times. But that they were moving forward. Maybe not exponentially, but inch by inch they were making headway.

Alone. In his office. At a bit past twelve in the afternoon, Richard Castle fist pumped.

/

"I told him."

"Told him what, Kate?

"About how I was affected by the sniper case, how I got the scar on my wrist from it."

"And it went well?"

"As well as telling someone that you have PTSD can go."

"That's the first time you've admitted you have PTSD."

"No, it's not. Last night I said it out loud to Castle. That was the first time that I said it to anyone."

"And?"

"And it wasn't the worst thing. Castle was really good about it. He stayed close, gave me time to be okay with saying it. Talked me down when I got upset afterwords. Sent me a carepackage to make sure I was okay with it today."

"Are you?"

"I think so. I don't regret telling him, if that's what you mean. I called, and thanked him, this morning. He's buying us drinks later."

"So, you told him something personal and he's still here. Taking you out, even."

"No. I mean, yeah. We've had drinks before, though."

"On your day off?"

"No."

"Do you see what I'm getting at, Kate?"

She looked out the window if her therapist's office. He had a great view of the city, not that she was focusing on the city's architecture. Or anything outside the window for that matter.

"You're saying that just because I open up to him, doesn't mean that he's going to run off."

"You trust Castle with your life in the field, why not at home?"

/

He arrived at the bar a good half hour early, giving himself time to check in on his staff and patrons. After making appearances, Castle disappeared to the basement of the bar, leaving a message with the bartender for Kate.

Since taking ownership, he had continued Donny's renovations to the basement, making it his own space within the bar. All of the original hardwood flooring had been redone, he'd had a jukebox custom made to accommodate new music while maintaining an authentic look, and instead of throwing out the old furniture, he had it all refurbished so that it could still be used safely. A team of professionals had come in to remove all paints and wallpaper from the walls, and in their place refinished the original wood. Castle had taken it upon himself to put up all other decor, spending hours scouring the internet for band poster replicas, literature-related art, and classic movie memorabilia.

When Kate arrived at The Old Haunt, she nodded hello to some of the patrons she had become acquainted with, and waved to familiar staff. She always ragged on Castle for being 'the mayor,' but walking into his bar she saw herself doing the same thing, effectively making her the first lady. Just as the thought crossed her mind she whisked it away, unwilling to admit that she had just imagined a scenario in which she and Castle were married people of the town.

"Detective Beckett?" Kate looked back the bar, where one of the servers had called her name.

"Mr. Castle wanted me to let you know that he is in his office, downstairs." She thanked the younger woman, and left a gracious tip on the counter before heading down to meet Castle.

She hadn't seen the basement since he'd first started renovating it. Stepping into the newly finished area, it looked like an entirely different space. She spotted him sitting at a table in the room's alcove, writing something in a leather-bound journal.

"I didn't know you kept a diary, Castle." She sat directly opposite him, crossing her legs over the side of the stuffed chair.

"Not a diary, Detective, just notes." He closed the pad and stood, stretching slightly before getting their drinks.

"Nikki Heat?" Kate followed his movements with her eyes. Admiring his ass in a pair of Levi's.

"Maybe. Or maybe nothing. Just ideas." He returned with a bottle of Jimmy Walker's scotch, much to her amusement.

"How did you get another bottle?"

"The Widows and Orphans fund put a portion of the collection up for auction. I couldn't think of a better way to spend my money."

"So just how many bottles did you buy?" A less-than-innocent smiled graced his features. "Wow, Castle. And I thought you were certifiable for the whole q-tip thing back at the morgue."

"Crazy doesn't even begin to cover it." He poured them each a glass and reclined into his seat. "So, how was your day off?"

"Good. I took full advantage of your package." He raised a playful eyebrow at her accidental innuendo.

So she went with it, leaning slightly into the table and dropping her voice. "You wouldn't believe how much better Nikki reads when I'm in my bathtub." She inched closer. "With those candles lit, and the bubbles reaching the brim." Another inch and she licked her lips. "And all I could think about." His knuckles were sheet white against the glass as he unconsciously leaned forward. "Was how much I desperately need," They were barely a lips distance away. "A new mirror."

She laughed and took a sip of her drink. "God, Castle, you're so easy."

He emptied his glass. "Tease."

"Sucker."

"Butthead."

"Snotface."

"Lint-licker."

"That's cheating, you can't use names from a commercial."

"All's fair in love and war."

"Coming up with better school yard names than you doesn't exactly constitute a war."

She took another drink.

"Love, then."

And promptly spit it out.

/

_Happy New Year! (:_


	4. Turnabout

_AN: I could never have predicted the kind of response I've gotten for this. Thank you all, so much. I hope your new year is fantastic. And sorry for the delay, I got viral pneumonia and a case of serious bronchitis on New Year's Eve and it's been kicking my ass since. I'm finally getting better now. Again, sorry about the wait._

_Disclaimer: I don't even have the money to buy seasons 2 and 3 on dvd... YET. Muahahaha, MUHAHAHA, cough._

_/_

It was Castle's turn to laugh. "Love of the game. AHH BOO-YAH!"

Kate cleaned up the mess she had made, needing a minute to recuperate and allow her heartrate to come down to a normal level. "Clever. I suppose turnabout is fair play."

He winked in response, secretly cataloging her reaction. They sat in comfortable silence until they finished their first round.

"More?"

"Please." It was her night off and a couple of drinks wouldn't kill her.

"So tell me, dear Detective, what did you think?"

"Of?"

"New Nikki."

"Still kinda slutty. But, off the record, a Castle best."

He let out a huge smile, honored that she would offer such high praises. "Thank you."

"I should be thanking you. That was a hell of a dedication."

"And I mean it. _Through it all, Always._ I don't have to print it in one of my books to prove it. Just pick any day from the past four years. Despite apartment fires, serial killers, freezers, dirty bombs, and tigers, we're alive. That's gotta be some kind of fate at work."

Fate. Their fate. Together. She couldn't decide if the subtext had been written by him or her. "Or dumb luck."

"Or dumb luck." He chuckled and changed the subject for her sake. They'd just had an intense conversation the night before and he wasn't about to ruin their progress by pushing her into another one so soon.

"I have a question."

"You should see the shock on my face."

"Ha-ha. But really. You've said before that you have a tattoo. What is it of? Because I've been debating getting one."

She eyed him curiously, but decided to answer anyway. "It's a quote. I got it on a whim, but I don't regret it, if that's what you're asking."

"What quote?"

"'Even hope lost can be hope found.' That's what the author at my first book signing wrote for me." She ducked her eyes and downed her drink, mildly embarrassed.

"I like that... I was thinking of maybe getting something for Alexis and Mother. Their birthdays or names or something."

"Where would you get it?"

"You tell me yours, I'll tell you mine."

"Ricky, you couldn't handle it if you knew."

"Threaten me with a good time."

/

Kate slapped at her night stand in a feeble attempt to grab her obnoxiously loud phone. She took a sideways glance at her clock before answering. 5:12 a.m.

"Beckett."

"Hey, I'd say sorry for waking you up but I've been here for half an hour. East 44th and 5th, Fitzpatrick Grand Central Hotel. He's a Uniform, but not one of ours. Want me to call the boys?" Oh, sweet sweet brevity, thank God for Lanie Parish.

"I'll do it. Thanks, Lanie."

"You got it." She hung up and repeated the Doc's situation appraisal to Ryan and Esposito. Each offering their own sentiments of 'if I'm sleeping, bad guy's should be sleeping' and 'I get that their criminals, but would it kill them to leave my sleeping schedule out of it.' Rolling onto her back with a less-than-satisfied groan, she debated calling Castle. It was early and she didn't want to wake him up, but at the same time, she didn't want to hear him complaining about not seeing the crime scene. Deciding on a text being the happy medium, she sent him the address.

Kate arrived at the scene twenty minutes later, to find Lanie wrapping up her initial investigation. "What have we got?"

"30-35 year-old male, COD looks like two gsws to the chest, scratch marks on his hands, and a nasty cut above his eye."

"Do we know what type of bullets were used?"

"Looks like your standard nine, but I'll know more once we get him back to the lab."

"Okay, thanks."

She surveyed the scene for all it's worth. A cop, presumably. Out of his patrol area, but still in uniform. No wallet or means of identification. He wasn't wearing kevlar or his service weapon. He was laid out on his back, having fallen back with the force of the bullet. His clothing and location aside, the shooting was rather run-of-the-mill.

She finished her examination as Esposito made his way over to her. They gave each other a nod by way of greeting before getting down to business. "We've got uniforms looking for anything the killer might have tossed. Ryan's talking to the hotel owner now, he should be done any minute. Where's Castle?"

"If he's got half a brain, sleeping." She waved Ryan over, happy with her team's impeccable timing this morning. "What did the owner say?"

"Says the guy never checked in, so no i.d. But, he says that our vic walked in, made it half way accross the foyer and his phone went off. The guy started yelling over the phone about how he couldn't trust someone anymore and the manager had to ask him to leave. Ten minutes later, he hears a gunshot, looks outside, and the guy's dead."

"Hell of a coincidence."

She stared at Esposito knowing he said it just for a reaction. He and Ryan smiled back.

"Yeah. Well you and Ryan stick around here for a bit, see what CSU and the uniforms come up with. I'm going to see if I can match his digs with any New York and sirrounding area precincts. Let me know if you find anything."

"You got it, boss."

/

Castle sat in his usual chair beside Beckett's desk, eyes fixed on his notebook where he had been writing ideas. The elevator pinged as it opened, the high note echoing across the empty precinct. He hadn't been sure what he'd been waiting for before, but now he knew. Their eyes met across the bullpen, gazes locked. She moved in a steady stride, her long legs gliding across the distance between them.

In an instant, she was in front of him. Hair cascading down her shoulders, she put her hands on either side of his chair. She dragged her eyes over his face, parting her lips slightly and then biting softly as her focus shifted from his lips to his eyes. "Hey, Rick." She said his name like a prayer, a perfect syllable dripping sensuality. He went to reply but was stopped as the thought crossed his mind by a long slender digit against his lips. She moved to his ear, their cheeks pressed, "Hush now." Trailing her hands up his arms, she settled one at the base of his neck and the other on his collar. "I have better uses for that mouth in mind." Dropping a light kiss near his ear, she pulled back slightly looking him in the eyes again.

She was so close he could barely breathe. And even when he did, she was all he took in. Her delicious scent, her incredible emerald eyes, her full luscious lips. A picture of pure beauty. He could hardly believe any of this was happening. She leaned ever closer, softly tugging on his collar. The tips of their noses touched, her hair creating a barrier between them and the rest of the world. She licked her lips slowly, brushing against his in the process. He couldn't help himself, her name slipped off his tongue, a whisper against the symphony she'd been conducting, "Kate." He closed his eyes and closed the distance between them.

He expected the fireworks he felt during that first kiss. The explosion of need and want that they each harbored. He expected something, anything else. He opened his eyes, greeted by the ceiling in his bedroom. "Son of a bitch."

He rolled over, frustrated. If only the dream had lasted a minute longer, a second even, instead it had been brought to a grinding halt by something. He looked around his room, finding the culprit still lit atop his bureau. He grunted and stood, stretching and rubbing his eyes clear before getting his phone. A body had dropped, why so early God only knows, but Beckett had let him know.

"Thanks. Just got your text, see you soon." He walked into his kitchen, not bothering to get dressed until he had his coffee. He leaned against the counter behind him and glanced at the clock, nearly 6:15 a.m., aka, way too early. The coffee pot beeped, taking him our of his thoughts. He was halfway through making his cup when he heard a soft rapping against his door.

/

Figuring Castle would be on his way out, Kate thought that the nice thing to do, would be to stop by and pick him up. But never did it cross her mind that she'd end up face to face with a shirtless Richard Castle. She couldn't help but check him out, he was right in front of her for Chrissake, it was like she was at an AA meeting and some one had just walked in with a keg.

He was barefoot in just a pair of dark grey sweats. Low dark grey sweats, really freaking low. She could see where his hip bones stuck out slightly, creating a delectable v-shape that led up to his toned chest. She knew that he was a fit guy, he had to be to keep up with her on chases and in the field. But she didn't realize that he was cut so well. It wasn't like he had a six-pack, but he was solid and defined and nice. Oh, so very _very_ nice. He had shoulders like a football player, wide and sturdy. She knew the sturdy part first hand, having been on top of him twice. Oh, wasn't that a way to think of their escapades. And his arms. Oh sweet Baby Jesus, his arms. For a second she almost wished they were back in the freezer so she could feel them wrapped around her again. But only for a second.

"Uh, hi."

He blinked. Not really sure what to do with himself. He shoved a hand through his hair, a sad attempt that just made it more messy. And in Kate's opinion, more adorable. "Beckett, what are you doing here."

"Sorry, I thought that you would want a ride but I didn't expect that you were... indisposed. I can wait downstairs."

"No, no." His reply was quick, too quick to be played off. "Just, come in. I'll get dressed, you can help yourself to some coffee and breakfast. Give me ten minutes." He sped off towards his room before she had a chance to reply. She walked in, appreciating the view from the back as much as the front. The way the muscles in his backed rolled when he stopped to take a breath outside his bedroom door. She was hopeless.

Kate made her way into the kitchen, making herself a cup of coffee while trying to calm herself down. She felt like a teenager, getting all hot and bothered over a half-naked guy. A really attractive half-naked guy who also happened to be your partner and one of your closest friends. But what they had was no highschool crush, and it wasn't an excess of puberty-induced hormones that made her want him.

She needed to busy herself, do something to get her mind off of him being gloriously shirtless in front of her. Exposed and warm and ruffled from sleep. Oh yes, she need a distraction. She let out a puff of air and headed towards his fridge, eager to make anything. It was going to be a long day.

/

_So not really a cliffhanger, but I figured with the last one being what it was, a reprieve was in order. Let me know what you think, where you see it going, what you like, what you hate, anything! (;_


	5. Stay

_A/N: I'm sensing you guys want more Castle/Beckett moments and opening up and less case-related stuff. I'm trying to make it less about the procedural and more about them, but I feel like without context for them to grow in, the relationship will seem less realistic. Bear with me? And sorry, between midterms and getting sick every other week, I've been behind on everything._

_Disclaimer: I meant to pick up some rights last time I went shopping, leave it to me to forget them again._

_/_

Kate was stuck in a whirlwind. Thoughts racing, heart pounding, heat rising. She loved it. Her entire being was vibrating with excitement, and no small amount of arousal. She had never seen Rick so exposed, and not just physically. Her mind replayed the reel of emotions that flashed behind his eyes while she went about making toast and eggs. Surprise at her arrival. Embarrassment at being caught in a state of undress. Thrilled by her response to him. Realization that they had been standing in his doorway staring at each other for a blatantly innappropriate amount of time. Understanding when he gave her an excuse to exit the situation.

Rick walked back into the kitchen, now dressed, just as she was sliding their breakfasts onto two plates and cleaning up the kitchen area. He sat on a stool at the island and watched her for a moment admiring her moving around his kitchen with ease. As if cooking in his house was something that occured naturally to her. She was about to start washing dishes when he stopped her.

"You can leave those. You've already outdone yourself. You didn't have to make me anything."

She hadn't realized he'd come back in the room yet and had to stop herself from jumping. "Hardly, it's just eggs. But I wasn't just going to make something for myself. I like cooking." She slid their plates over to him with the coffee he had forgot he was making and sat next to him.

"We have time to eat?"

"And extra. The vic is a Rhode Island cop. We put out an APB for missing cops in New England and got a hit in RI. The uniforms are a match so we're waiting for the wife and friend to come in for a positive i.d. and questioning."

"That's a four hour drive."

"And I made the call on the way over, so it'll be a while before we can do anything. I sent Ryan and Espo home to sleep until the wife gets to the city."

"And then you came here?" Oh, he had caught her.

"Yeah, I guess I did." And she didn't try to make excuses. They were both a bit surprised by her. Maybe her therapist was helping her make more progress than she realized.

"Well, I'm glad you did. This is great, thanks."

"Your food, I just threw it together."

They finished about the same time and went about cleaning their dishes together. "So when are Martha and Alexis getting home?"

He passed her a pan; he was washing and she was drying. "Not until later tonight. Their taking a train back from Boston at six, so they'll probably be here around 10:30, 11."

She made a mental note to try to make it a long night at the precinct so he wouldn't be home alone. "Do you know if she found a college she wants to apply for yet?"

"Mother said that she really liked Brown and Columbia." He finished up the washing and turned to lean against the sink. Head turned, he watched her finish off the lot.

"Those are good schools. Not too far either." She stretched a bit to put the last plate away, her shirt lifting slightly. Castle's eyes moved of their own accord to the exposed strip of creamy skin. Every nerve in his body was telling his brain to reach out and brush his fingers against her. The same way he had when they had been drugged by the tiger smugglers. Except they were in his kitchen. Being domestic. And she'd seen him shirtless earlier. He couldn't decide which situation was more dangerous.

"Castle?" She moved to stand in front of him, standing against the island. He had been lost in his concerted effort to not touch her.

"Yeah?"

"You okay? We don't have to talk about it if it bothers you."

"It's fine. Thanks for helping with the dishes and making breakfast."

"Don't mention it... So..." She didn't want to go home, not where she would be alone thinking about cops and bullets and gsws to the chest. After having already had an episode that weekend, she knew she'd be more susceptible to be triggered.

"We have a couple of hours, right? How about a movie? Unless you wanted to go home and sleep."

And there it was. He had made the decision entirely hers, and in no small way. She recognized it for what it was. He was looking out for her. Giving her final say. Stay and admit that she would rather hang out with her partner than do something else. Or, go home and sulk in her inability to move forward in their relationship like she so desperately wanted to. She smiled at him, and not just for giving her an exit. "What movies do you have?"

/

Katherine Beckett was fast asleep. And Richard Castle was damn lucky.

He had put _Away We Go_ on the projector and plopped down next to her on the side of the couch. She was sitting in the middle, legs tucked up under her, her side pushed against his. It took less than half an hour for her head to end up on his shoulder, eyes closed and a sweet smile on her lips.

Surprised at the unexpected movement, Rick turned his head slowly, trying not to jar her. She was exhausted from being woken up so early. And after being out at The Old Haunt with him the night before, she needed the sleep. He angled himself towards her, sitting slanted with his arm across the back of the couch so that she could lay against him more comfortably. Still unconscious, she responded to his movements, letting out a slight sigh and shifting into the space he had created.

Sure that she would wake up and be unnerved by their position, Castle took advantage of the moment, carefully memorizing how she felt against him. Comfort radiating off of her skin in rays of warmth. Hair tickling him slightly from where she tucked her head into him. The rise and fall of her chest in perfect sync with the soft sounds of her breathing.

She was asleep and stunning. He was in shock, in awe, in love.

/

_Blue rays of light breaking through shadows. Montgomery apologizing. His face blurred by her tears, her realization. Castle standing behind her. Standing with her. Despite their fight. Despite everything. And then Montgomery yelling. And Castle lifting her up. And struggling. And fighting. And knowing. And crying. Useless, useless, useless. _

_Breaking apart in his arms. Begging for mercy he can't grant her. 'Castle... Please...' She knows he can't. Can't let her walk into a firefight. She wants to. She needs to. He can't let her. And she understands. It rips her apart. But she understands. _

_She gives up. She gives in. She gives out. Collapsing down. Expecting hard concrete at her feet. Finding strength in his arms. He holds her up. All the world is crumbling around them. And he's sorry. He keeps saying how sorry he is. And wiping her tears. And brushing her hair back. He holds her up._

_A shot rings out. She has to go in. She has to see. He can't not let her. He has to see. Running in. He's left in her wake. And she's on her knees. Long minutes lost in her memory. Maybe five, maybe sixty. But Castle was back. Pulling her off the ground. Walking her towards his car. Driving her home. Making her coffee. Waiting wordless. For daylight. For answers. For anything._

_Flags. Tombstones. One hundred faces. Blending, meshing, mixing, together. Mumbled words. False complacencies. A deep breathe. A tribute. A speech. A glint of light. A sharp flame of pain. 'Stay with me, Kate... Don't leave me, please... Stay with me, okay?...Kate... I love you... I love you, Kate.' _

_Echoes. A muted reply. I love you, back. I love you, too. I love you. I love you. I'm sorry. Darkness. Infinite. Suffocating. Falling, falling, falling._

"NO... PLEASE... NO, NO, NO!"

He woke up to Kate screaming. Head banging against his chest, arms and legs twitching violently, tears streaming fast. She was having a night terror. Something he was all too familiar with. Rick didn't know what to do. Wanting to wake her up, but not wanting to make it worse, he took his chances. He enveloped her into a tight embrace, back pressed flat on his chest, arms held back from hurting him or herself. He pulled her into him.

He brought his lips down to her ear, "Kate. Wake up, Kate." Starting quiet, he tried not to startle her, slowly gaining volume. "Everything's okay. Come on, Kate. Wake up for me."

Her eyes opened wide in shock. Unsure of her surroundings. Or where dreams dissipated into reality. Breathing fast and hard, she focused on slowing down. She managed to stop twisting and turning. Allowed her paroxysms to become shakes.

It took several minutes for her to catch up with the rest of the world. Rick whispering gentle phrases of comfort. His grip loosening, bit by bit, but breaking contact. He waited for her breathing to steady and the shakes to stop. Voicing encouragements the whole time. "That's it, Kate. Just relax. I've got you. You're safe, Kate. You're safe."

A silent minute passed when he realized she had reached steady ground. "

Kate... What can I do?"

She inhaled deeply. Trying to allow her need for help to overcome her pride, just this one time. Just today. Just this moment. She replied on an exhale, voice quiet and breathy.

"...Don't let go."

/

_I feel like these chapters haven't been as strong as the first two. What am I missing? How do I improve? Reviews help more than you know._


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